Vincible'
by TheNerdyNanny
Summary: SPOILER ALERT. One shot episode tag to Season two; Invincible. What happens after camera's cut to black? Forget about days later. I mean in the period before and eight minutes immediately following the shocking final scene, what happened? And how is Captain Singh involved?
**'Vincible'**

One Shot – Spoilers for 'Invincible"

Just watched Invincible! My head won't stop spinning, such an amazing episode! I can't wait for next weeks, obviously, so I've decided to keep the story going myself. Previews for the next episode cut straight to the funeral, but those things take time. What I want to know, is what happened immediately after the camera's cut to black? This is my take on it.

I am working on my other fics again, more coming soon! If you like what you read, follow me on social media;

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 **WARNING:** serious spoilers for the end of Flash season two episode 'Invincible'.

David Singh was tired. His station was still in a state of complete disarray. Zoom's recent occupation had left the facility a mess. Other than just the basics of overturned desks and office chairs having been thrown off the roof (apparently an army of metahumans behaved an awful lot like an army of frat boys) was the monstrosity that was also known as paperwork. More than anything else that had been affected during the recent crisis, was the simple fact that every single one of their case files had been moved or dumped or just straight up incinerated. Some of them were even used to make chains of paper dolls that had been hung around the precinct in a sort of creepy homage. They had computer files back up on the servers, but it would take time to access them all.

There were down nearly a dozen officers including the members of the anti-metahuman strike force they'd lost at Jitters. Fortunately, most of the other officers were only injured and were recovering at Metro General, but it still left them shorthanded. He sighed.

David Singh was tired. So unbelievably tired. All he wanted to do was curl up in bed, wrapped up in his soft cotton blankets and squishy comforter, his arms wrapped securely around his husbands waist, keeping him safe and loved, surrounded only by the familiar scent of their fabric softener and after shave.

"Captain!"

Singh sighed. He was tired. But so were his men, and they still had a lot of work left to do. So for now apartment and his husband would have to wait. He steeled himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and turned back towards the bullpen.

"Yes Sergeant."

"We're trying to get some of the evidence files to help the DA deal with those Meta's waiting at Iron heights for processing but the physical files are, well…" the officer in question glanced up to where several cadets, borrowed from the CCPD Police Academy for the extra hands, were standing on ladders removing the paper doll strings from the ceiling and banister railings.

"Great," Singh grumbled quietly, allowing himself a small (very small) moment of annoyance before moving onto their next possible solution. It was going to be a long several days for all of them. No sense in making it any worse by snapping at an officer for just trying to do his job. "Backup copies?"

The Officer shrugged. "Probably in Allen's lab, but…"

"Lord knows where that kid keeps anything," Singh grumbled, directing the several officers righting desks and replacing chairs and filing cabinets as carried on his conversation with the Officer. "Remind me get that kid filing lessons." The officer smirked, and Singh considered it a job well done, helping to ease some of the tension that had settled into his frustrated officer. "Alright then, what about digital copies?"

"We tried accessing them on the main frame, but the server's still backed up dealing with background requests."

That was understandable. They had 348 metahumans who needed to be verified, cross checked and registered against their Earth-1 counterparts. Joe had been forced to explain that interesting little detail after it turned out that several of the attacking metahumans had some understandably very confused counterparts within the CCPD itself. Now they had to verify each metahumans identity as well as cross check it against this dimensions variable counterpart.

"Shouldn't Allen have originals of everything on his server? He would have to keep a copy somewhere before he completed his final reports. At least his digital files should be easier to search through than his paper ones," Singh scoffed out a little laugh at his own joke, but the Officer didn't immediately reply. Instead, he was looking at Captain Singh with something akin to worry. "There a problem Sergeant?"

"Allen's computer is security locked."

"Ok, so use the override key," Singh prompted, still struggling to see what the problem was. But the offer in question was still just looking at him nervously. "Oh, just spit it out Smithson." Singh snapped, done tiptoeing around when there was work to be done.

"We tried using the override key, but some backup security features kicked in and locked the entire thing down. When we called up tech support all they could salvage were scraps of data that hadn't been locked down yet, but they say everything in there is under serious encryption. Like, hardcore better than military grade stuff. He's never seen anything like it."

Now Singh understood why the officer looked so nervous. Downloading outside programs, even something like solitaire, onto a secure CCPD computer was a serious violation. The risk of a breach of police files was not something they took lightly, especially not since Leonard Snart (aka Captain Cold) mysteriously disappeared from any known police database over a year ago. Barry Allen, despite his perpetual tardiness and unbelievable clumsiness, as one of those kids that everybody just seemed to like. He was smart, compassionate, hardworking, and just generally a very good kid, especially considering all the crap he'd been through in his life. But if there was unexplained military software on his CCPD computer, then it didn't matter how universally well liked the kid was. Allen had some serious explaining to do.

"Captain…"

David was just about to take Smithson upstairs to look at Allens computer when he heard another officer calling his name from across the bull pen. This time is was Kathy from the front desk. The officer was supposed to be on maternity leave, but after the metapocalyse was over she had shown up at the precinct, nine and a half months pregnant (the baby was two weeks late), wheeled in her own ergonomic chair from home and taken over handling the phone lines. It wasn't her calling him that had caught his attention though, but the shakiness in her voice. She was leaning over the front desk, pale as a ghost, on hand on her obviously swollen midsection. For a brief moment David felt his stomach rise into his throat as he thought that maybe her water had finally broken. But then he saw the phone line she was gripping in her other hand, white knuckled and shaking despite the impeccable officers' usual steely resolve.

"What is it Kathy?" David asked quietly. The rest of the bullpen seemed to still as multiple sets of eyes locked on the Captain at his unusually quiet response and then on Kathy's alarmingly pale face behind the desk. The stillness spread out like a wave until every head in the precinct was aimed there way. Meaning that every officer in the precinct heard what Kathy said next.

"There's been a sighting sir…" Kathy spoke quietly, but her voice was easily heard above the deathly silence of the CCPD. "It's Zoom."

Silence reigned for perhaps four seconds. Four long, painful seconds as dread settled into every heart and a chill settled down every spine, shock rendering their minds and thoughts numbs.

When the four second was up, it was if a universal signal had been given, and the precinct sprang into life once more.

"I want every officer called in on red alert! Notify the hospitals, they might need to expect casualties! I want everyone in traffic with a mainframe login monitoring the traffic cams! We need to track movement! Get every beat cop, traffic warden, and cadet to the CCPD right now! I want this building locked down TIGHT! We are not getting kicked out of our own home by the lunatic TWICE! Palmer, O'Hare, gather ever strike team member we have left and get them up to task and down to the parking bay NOW! We are not going to lose this guy again! West-" David glanced over towards the Detectives desk, ready to bark out the order to call in the Flash, only to find the mans desk sideways and unattended. "Smithson! Where the HELL is West?"

"Having dinner with his family," Smithson replied instantly. "You gave him the night off."

"Dammit!" Singh swore, spinning on the spot. The rest of the precinct was in military style chaos with officers calling over the radios trying to organize everything that they would need to pull this off. Cadets and newbies were barricading the precinct, the strike team was gathering every piece of anti-metahuman technology they had on hand, and detectives were radioing every connection they had in the city to try and get things locked down tight. "Arnolds, call in West! We're gonna need the Flash on this one! And if you can't get West then get Ramon on the line!"

"Ramon?" Arnolds, a relatively new beat cop asked uncertainly. A more senior officer next to him just jotted down a number and passed it over.

"The tech guy with the metahuman task force. Works outta star labs, always wears those geeky shirts?" Arnolds have a silent 'O' in understanding and Singh nodded in gratitude to the more senior officer for saving him from having to explain.

"He and the Flash seem to be joined at the hip, see if he can get the speedster over there. Kathy! We're going to need that address!" The dazed officer nodded curtly, some of her steely resolve returning now that the shock of the situation was beginning to fade. "And get it to West or Ramon whenever we get ahold of them!"

Sure that his orders were being followed, Captain David Singh jogged down to the parking garage, loading himself into the tactical support van with as much anti-metahuman tech as he could handle. It was scarcely a full minute later when the van was full of the remains of the strike force. The last officer hadn't even slammed the van door shut before the vehicle had begun to accelerate out of the garage.

It was a seven minute drive with full sirens from the CCPD to the address Kathy had given them. It probably should have been twelve, but Singh wasn't about to berate the officer for his driving when they were trying out outrun a creature that could run faster than the speed of sound. Singh spent the seven minutes coordinating with the officers watching the traffic cameras for signs of speedsters while assessing his men and their equipment in a silent inventory in the back of his mind. They were tired, understaffed, and woefully underprepared. They couldn't just go charging in. He wouldn't lead his men into a slaughter, not again.

"What do we know about the place we're going?" Singh asked the communications coordinator, a skinny and fairly new officer who was repeatedly clicking in and out of multiple channels on the radio on his shoulder.

"Private residence. Upper middle class neighborhood. Neighbors' first noted seeing flashes of blue lightening earlier this afternoon, but didn't make anything of it as the Metahumans had supposedly all been taken down the night before."

"What changed their mind?" Singh asked, half his mind on the response and half his attention still on coordinating their remaining resourced to their best possible advantage.

"They saw him," the officer said quietly. That got everyone's attention real fast. They entire population of the van (other than the driver) now had eyes on the man as he made his rather stunned report, receiving more and more details from Kathy over his ear piece as he continued to speak. "Apparently they began noticing blue sparks again late this afternoon, but they still didn't do anything about it. Then he just… appeared, standing in the middle of the road, before disappearing again. They haven't reported seeing any additional sparks since he last left."

Now that… that did not sound right. Singh knew from rather painful personal experience just how fast this thing (he refused to regard the monster that had murdered seven of his men as anything close to human) could move. His entire strike force was downed in the literal blink of an eye. One moment they had him outnumbered and surrounded and the next his men were dropping like ragdolls with their necks snapped… and he hadn't seen a thing. There was no way Zoom had been spotted just standing out in the open like that. Not unless the monster had wanted it to happen.

"Alright men, we're probably looking at an ambush. No way Zoom shows his face and then just disappears unless that's his intention. No one goes into that residence until I give the OK, are we clear?" A collection of 'yes sir's' and 'yes captain' answered him as the drew closer to the residence in question. The sun had set almost an hour ago, but there was enough lingering light combined with the street lamps that they could get a clear enough view of the front of the house to start to form a strategic plan. "Alright guys, first things first, we need to try and minimize casualties. Walters, Petro, I want you going door to door. We need to at least clear the surrounding houses. A one block perimeter would be better but somehow I doubt we'll get the time for that. I want two on the east side and four following around the west. We've got entry points and the front and the back. I don't want anybody moving until we've got some idea what's going on in there. We keep radio silence until we have a confirmed sighting, understood?"

The assembled officer nodded at Singh's order and, at his signal, exited the van. With precision born of exhaustion, terror, and recent experience, the officer moved out in silence to surround the house. Of the ten men, including Singh, two were going door to door ushering families out of their homes and on to their neighbors. Hopefully the evacuating civilians would create a wave outward and away from the potential scene. He received nods from his two mean moving around the east side of the house, giving the all clear. Four more moved around the west side, signaling when the side yard was clear and again when two of them split off towards the back of the house and took up positions on either side of the back door. Singh and Carter, a thirty something officer who had been with the department for almost a decade, joining at about the same age that Allen had become a CSI. Singh was just clicking on the radio, about to ask the men at the back door if they could see anything when black form surrounded by blue sparks zoomed its way past the officers and into the front door.

"EVERYONE HOLD! I REPEAT! EVERYONE HOLD!" Singh barked out, not eager to get any of his men killed by having them charge in before they had a full understanding of what was happening. "Target is on site! I repeat, target is on site! Circle around to breach positions, but DO NOT MOVE."

Even before his orders had been finished he could feel his men moving into position, four around the back door and the two from the East side came to join Singh and Carter round the front. The sight of the black suit surrounded by its familiar crackle of blue sparks had sent David's heart hurtling up into his throat. He ignored it as he made the split second command decisions necessary to keep himself and his men alive. He tried to keep his whole mind focused on the task at hand, but all he could think about was how pissed Mark would be if he knew where he was and how much danger he was in. Mark's face when an officer arrived at their door in dress blues. Mark calling out from work to mourn his dead partner. Mark having to move on and David never being able to tell him again how much he loved him. Price of marrying a cop, he supposed. But still…

As Captain David Singh was preparing for what was likely to be the stupidest and most reckless decision of his career, a familiar flash of red and gold sparks streaked past him. And just like that, he felt his heart drop back into its rightful position in his chest again.

The Flash had come.

"Everyone hold," David whispered into his radio. "We have a friendly on site. Repeat, friendly on site. Hold your positions."

David was trying desperately to ignore the sense of overwhelming relief flooding through his body and sending tingling waves through his every nerve and fiber of his being. Relief would not help to keep him sharp. What he needed now, no matter how much he hated it, was the gut wrenching sweat inducing sweat that had him on pins and needles just a moment ago.

He wished more than anything right now that they had a line into the home. He could feel Carter shifting next to him as saw the younger officer slide himself along the side of the house to peer into one of the front windows. Whatever the other officer saw, it made his eyes widen in disbelief and he looked over to his Captain to wave the other man over. Joining Carter on the other side of the window, David attempted to peer in to the home.

Thin, lacy white curtains covered the entire window, but thankfully the arcs of blue energy that were still sparking off the black form threw enough light into the room to allow some limited visibility. They were looking into a small front room, armchairs and end table just barely visible in the gloom. Beyond that was a doorway leading to another room, this one much more readily identifiable as a living room as arcs of blue electricity bounced off the walls, more thoroughly illuminating the space.

But there, between the Captain and the man had had killed over half a dozen of his officers, was a familiar figure clad in red. He felt a sigh of relief course through him but fought it down, desperate to keep himself as sharp as possible. They knew all too well that the Flash was not infallible. Zoom had taught them all that much.

For now, however, it looked as if the two men were simply… talking? Both he and Carter could hear their voices from the back and forth exchange between speedsters. Zoom's voice lacked the eerie demonic quality that had marked it as so previously terrifying. The Flash's voice was also missing its usual unusualness, sounding pleading, almost desperate. All of this mad David wonder what the HELL was going on in there exactly as doubt momentarily plagued him. Then the Flash shifted, and things became clear.

Zoom had his arm wrapped around the throat of a man that David only vaguely recognized in the gloom but couldn't quite place. This shifting of positions and a particularly bright series of electric sparks threw a few things into sharp relief. Zoom was not wearing his mask, and the square jawed handsome face that had laid underneath it was instantly identifiable as the mysterious man that had helped save the city while the Flash had been mysteriously absent. And another thing that was made evident by the brief sparks of light, was that the Flash was also unmasked. It was difficult to tell anything other than the fact that the man had short hair as the supposed hero was facing away from them and towards Zoom. All of this was making David suddenly doubt a lot of thing as he questioned every interaction the city had ever had with the Flash over the last two years. He hated to even think it, but maybe the speedster wasn't really the hero everyone had made him out to be.

The man in Zoom's grasp was speaking. Again they couldn't make out the words, but it was obvious as the voices grew in pitch and volume that things were quickly coming to a head. The Flash was pleading, begging even. But Zoom simply carried on in a calm and reasoned tone, almost as if her were speaking to a particularly stubborn child. The man in Zooms grasp was speaking swiftly, desperately now, obviously trying to convey a message to the Flash.

David knew what was going to happen as soon as Zoom took a step back, but by the time he had ordered the breach it was too late. Just as David passed the window, falling into formation as their unit breached the house, he saw Zooms entire arm disappear behind the man and reappear protruding _through_ the man's chest. The surrounding quiet of the night was cut by the most agonizing cry David had ever heard. He didn't know it yet, but that sounds would wake him up in a cold sweat for years to come.

The strike force breached the front and rear doors simultaneously. Eight officers swarmed inside the residence, taking up defensive positions behind furniture and around door jams.

The Flash was kneeling in the center of the room, the hostages limp form held in his arms as a red stain began to slowly spread across the front of his grey T-shirt. Zoom was standing at the red clad speedsters' side, a small satisfied smile on his face as he looked down at the scene with pride.

"I told you Flash, we're the same, you and I. And now you'll see that." The dark clad man actually reached out to pat the smaller form on the shoulder. The Flash didn't move. He didn't even flinch. Just kept holding tightly onto the broad shouldered man in his arms.

And just like that, Zoom was gone. Singh twisted violently in position, searching for any sign of the dark speedster while simultaneously checking over his men. But there was no sign of the dark menace other than a few casually fluttering papers and the men around him remained standing. David breathed a sigh of relief at not having to watch his men crumple to the floor around him before turning his attention back to scene at hand. The Flash remained unmoved, not having so much as twitched as the officers stormed the house.

"Any sign of him?" Singh demanded, operating on the policy of better safe than sorry. He received multiple negatives from his men, but it was the reaction of one of the officers directly across from him that caught his attention.

Sergeant Andrews was 23. He'd graduated from the Academy only two years ago, just after the whole particle accelerator mess. As one of the youngest officers he had, he really shouldn't be on any kind of Strike force anywhere. But the young man had four years with ROTC and two with the Marines before joining CCPD. And considering how shorthanded they'd been, Singh had to make a judgement call. Right now he was seriously reconsidering that judgement as they young man dropped his guard and his weapon to his side as he stared despondently at the scene before him. The hero still had not moved from his position holding onto the body. Singh has just about to berate the junior officer when the young man uttered a few soft words.

"Oh God… Barry…"

And just like that the rest of his officers froze, their weapons dropping slightly, though thankfully not completely to their sides as they looked at the young man in front of them. David felt his weapon drop to his side, though he kept a ready grip on it, as he circled around the red leather clad figure in three quick strides.

There, clad head to toe in red leather, was the CCPD's very own Barry Allen.

The twenty six year old CSI was holding onto the now immediately recognizable body of his father, Henry Allen, on his knees in the living room of his childhood home where his mother had been murdered some fifteen years ago. The klutzy but dedicated young man who had devoted himself to science and proving his father's innocence was now holding onto that same man's corpse. The kid who'd interned at the CCPD every summer since he was eighteen, who'd volunteered at every CCPD fundraiser and family function, who'd become more a part of their family than any real officer. The same young man who'd been struck by lightning the night of particle accelerator and been sent into a coma, only to miraculously recover nine months later with only slightly erratic behavior as a side effect.

Barry Allen was sitting on his knees in the living room where'd he'd watched his mother die, holding onto his father's corpse as he broke.

"Secure the house," Singh all but whispered the order.

"What?" Singh looked back to see a new guy, a recent transfer from Starling, sorry – Star City, starring at him incredulously. "You want us to…"

"I want you to DO YOUR DAMN JOB!" Singh barked out, shutting down the officer and shutting him down fast. "I want this street shut down and the CCPD pulled back! We keep the civilians out of the line of fire and our officers on standby until we're sure that Zoom isn't about to launch another GODDAMN METAPOCALYPSE! And if you can't do that then I want you to park your ass in the GODDAMN TRUCK until I SAY SO! UNDERSTOOD?!"

The new transfer suitably cowed, Singh nodded to the rest of his men to make sure they understood and pulled Carter aside.

"Find West. Allen's going to need him. I don't care if you've gotta drive to his house and pull him out of bed in his underwear, but _find him._ " Carter nodded, his face set in a grim line before he quickly clicked on his radio and began calling around for some sign of the Detective.

Singh sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair as he turned back to the living room. Andrews was still standing frozen to the spot, starring at the figure of the friendly CSI that had heled welcome him to the CCPD, and who was in fact only a few years older than himself. A figure that had still not moved in the nearly three minutes since they'd breached the house.

"Andrews," Singh called, sharply, but not unkindly. "I've got this."

The younger officer swallowed but nodded as he moved to follow the other officers in securing the house and making sure all of the surrounding neighbors had been suitably evacuated. Eventually Singh was left alone with the young man who had caused him more headaches than he cared to remember and a rapidly cooling body, all his officer surrounding the home or else standing just outside the open doorways. Making his way over to the young man David Singh dropped down next to him, and, taking in the figure before him, felt his heart break a little more for his trusty CSI.

Reaching out, David put his hand on the young man's shoulder and, finally, FINALLY, the young man looked over at him. Allen's face was pale and drawn, his freckles standing out sharply against such ghastly white skin. Tears had tracked their way down his cheeks, though the young man hardly seemed to have noticed. He was still clutching vaguely at his father's body. His hands clenching and unclenching were the only motion in the otherwise eerily still young man. His eyes, which were normally comically expressive and make the kid all too easy to read, were flat and unblinking.

David reached over and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "We're going to get him Barry. He won't get away with this."

Allen didn't blink. Didn't even look like he'd heard his Captains words of reassurance. Just turned his flat, unblinking eyes back to his father's body. And David Singh could do absolutely nothing as he watched Central City's hero and savior break and shatter like glass right in front of him.

 _Sorry to be such a downer! But I highly doubt the season finale is going to all sunshine and rainbows either. Anyways, this turned out to be way longer than I thought it would be, but I really wanted to do it from Captain Singh's point of view. He doesn't get nearly enough air time if you ask me._


End file.
